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Behind the Enemy’s 
Lines 


By ALBERT CLIFF ^PROUL 



Published By 

DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING COMPANY 

Elgin Chicago New York Boston 

Publishing House and Mailing Rooms, Elgin, Illinois. 


Copyright, 1918, 

By David C. Cook Publishing Co. 
Elgin, Illinois. 


Behind the Enemy's 
Lines 

By ALBERT CLIFF SPROUL 

CHAPTER ONE. 

T hey have crossed the border !” The speaker leaned 
from the tonneau of the high-powered racing car to call 
to the aged innkeeper. 

“ And when will they be here ? " 

“ In about three hours. Prepare, for we are relying upon 
you.” 

The car continued its flight down the winding road into the 
valley, while the innkeeper stood in the doorway and wrung 
his hands. “ Pierre,” he called finally. “ Pierre.” 

A boy about sixteen years of age came from the rear of 
the building. “ The time has come,” the old man whispered. 
” The enemy has invaded our country. Are you brave enough 
to do your part?” 

‘‘Yes, grandfather.” 

‘‘If you are found out, it means death for both of us.” 

‘‘ I shall do my best.” 

‘‘We must lose no time, yet we must be cautious. I fear 
there are traitors about. Take the mare and ride through 
the village into the woods and tie her there. Then steal back 
on foot. I shall have everything ready.” 

Pierre followed instructions, and making a detour through 
the woods, he completely encompassed the west side of the 
village and came up behind the inn. Prone upon the ground, 
at the fringe of the forest, he “cawed” noisily three times. 


4 


BEHIND THE ENEMYN LINES. 


A few moments later, a lower window of the inn, on the side 
fronting the woods, opened and a red tablecloth was laid on 
the sill. 

Pierre knew now that the coa-st was clear. He rose from 
the ground and stole quickly across the open stretch to the 
stone stable. Skirting this, he glided hastily into the inn. 

“Make haste!” his grandfather commanded excitedly. 
“ Refugees from the border towns are drawing near. They 
will soon pass the inn.” 

Pierre walked to the huge fireplace. All the preparations 
had been made for starting a fire and the kindling and logs 
awaited but the touch of a match. Leaning over, he pressed 
on a hidden spring. A part of the back of the fireplace opened 
like a door. 

“Everything is in there,” the innkeeper said; “food, wa- 
ter, everything. Be brave, my boy. It is for our country. 
Hurry!” , 

A moment later, Pierre had closed the door behind him and 
stood in utter darkness. He heard his grandfather cross the 
inn floor and start the fire. The chill of an early fall re- 
quired heated rooms. The time for which they had prepared 
so long had come at last. War, which had hovered darkly 
over them, had broken out. A ruthless enemy, that had bran- 
dished weapons and hurled menaces for so long a time, was 
pouring into their beloved land. It had been the prophecy of 
the War Office that the enemy would make their first stand 
along this valley. Accordingly, the inn had been secretly re- 
constructed so that it could be used as an outpost when the 
enemy had invaded the country. It would be most advan- 
tageous to have some one behind the enemy's lines to assist 
the gunners in the fort in finding the proper range, and the 
important part had fallen to the lot of Pierre, as one of the 
least liable to be suspected. 

Feeling his way ahead, Pierre came to the narrow, winding 
staircase that led to the platform above. The immense chim- 
ney in the rear of the inn was, in reality, a chimney within a 
chimney. The two compartments had been separated by a 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


5 


double wall, within which there was a vacuum that prevented 
the heat of the inner chimney from making the temperature 
of the outer one unendurable. Above, all had been so clever- 


Pierre knew now that the coast was clear. 



ly joined that no one would suspect tlTe existence of the se- 
cret. Step by step, Pierre made his way up the staircase. 

At last he reached the platform that ran around the interior 
of the outer chimney. Cunningly arranged peepholes in the 



6 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


stone walls enabled him to get a view of the country in all 
directions. Pierre groped along one of the walls until his 
hand came in contact with a coil of insulated wire. Unwind- 
ing it, he felt for the end, and pressed the button which he 
found there, encased in a wooden holder. Three times he 
did that. Then he waited. At length a faint bluish light ap- 
peared in a small bulb on the wall. “ Good,” murmured 
Pierre. ” They know now that I am ready.” 

He hung the wire on the hook again and gazed out of one 
of the openings in the chimney. Refugees were hurrying 
along the road that led to the city.. After the few stragglers 
who brought up the rear had passed the inn, an ominous si- 
lence fell. His eyes fixed on the hole in the chimney and his 
pulse' throbbing violently, Pierre awaited the coming of the 
enemy. Suddenly a solitary horsepian hove into sight, direct- 
ly followed by another. Others, irregularly grouped, came 
after them. These were followed by many more, all moving 
ahead at a deliberate pace. They were the cavalry scouts 
trying to get knowledge of the other forces. As nothing 
happened, they proceeded on their way toward the valley. 
The khaki-clad infantry followed. Pierre was aghast at their 
numbers. 

Stealing to the opposite side of his chimney shelter, he 
saw that the predictions of the War Office were correct. The 
enemy had decided to make the valley their base from which 
to proceed against and capture the city. The inn was filled 
with a noisy crowd that gutturally demanded of the innkeeper 
his best. Pierre heard his grandfather, in a temporary lull, 
try to placate his unwelcome guests. 

In the meantime, daylight had faded to dusk. Pierre, tired 
from his vigil, and realizing that he could do nothing further 
that night, tiptoed to the staircase. The felt slippers that 
covered his shoes muffled the sounds of his steps. He de- 
scended to the bottom of the chimney and felt his way to a 
chest that stood in the corner. As he raised the lid a small 
light was mechanically flashed on within the container. Here 
was stored everything that was essential to his stay in the 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


7 


hidden chamber. There were many boxes of prepared, imper- 
ishable rations. ^Liquids were contained in tight tanks with 
faucets attached. A small electric stove supplied the heat 
that Pierre required. Blankets and a felt mattress lay to one 
side of the chest. 

After preparing and eating a hasty meal, Pierre took one 
of the blankets and ascended the winding staircase. On 
reaching the platform, he opened a small air hole near the 
top of the chimney, spread his blanket on the platform, and 
sat down to rest in preparation for his trying work of the 
next day. 

All at once the hubbub in the inn was silenced. “ Clear out 
of here,” a voice commanded in the foreign tongue which 
Pierre understood, “ every one of you.” A scuffling of feet 
into the road followed. The soldiers were evidently leaving 
the inn. 

“ And with what may I serve you?” Pierre heard his grand- 
father ask, in humble tones. 

” With your absence.” 

“You mean, sir?” 

“ 1 want everybody in the place to clear out, everybody. Do 
you understand?” 

“ For good?” 

“Yes. We are going to use this place for headquarters, so 
hurry up! , Take your stuff and leave. The staff will be here 
in a few minutes.” 

Pierre started in amazement at what he heard. By a whim- 
sical trick of fate, the hidden chamber was to serve two pur- 
poses : not only could he help the gunners of the fort to find 
the range, but he would be able to overhear the most intimate 
secrets of the enemy’s army. 


8 BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

P IERRE realized that the strange turn of events threw 
him entirely upon his own resources. In banishing his 
grandfather the enemy had forced away the only one 
in the vicinity who knew the secret of the inn. 

Many foot-treads indicated the advent of the enemy. There 
was a scraping of many heavy objects over the wooden floor 
of the inn. Suddenly his grandfather’s voice surmounted 
the din, “When may I come back?’’ 

“When we get good and ready to let you, if there’s any- 
thing left of the place when we get through with it. Be quick. 
I’ve no time to fool away with you.’’ 

“ In that case ’’ — the innkeeper spoke even louder — “ I must 
go to the Circle.’’ 

Pierre caught the significance of his grandfather’s words. 
He knew thjft they were intended for him; that the Circle, 
an opening about two miles back of the village, in the midst of 
the most dense part of the woods, was in some way to be a 
means of communication between them. 

Five minutes later, the chugging of several automobiles in 
front of the inn indicated the arrival of the staff. “ Is every- 
thing prepared?’’ boomed out a deep, authoritative voice. 

“Almost everything, general. We are just finishing the in- 
stallation of the telephones.’’ 

“ Has the house been thoroughly searched ?’’ 

“ Yes, general.’’ 

“You’re certain there’s no one around?” 

“ Yes, general,” 

“ Then, place a guard about the building.” 

Pierre strained his ears for all the information he could 
get, but he heard little that was of value. Suddenly a strange 
voice broke into the conversation. “ He is here, general,” the 
man was saying, “ awaiting your orders.” 

“ Show him in. And be sure that no one sees him enter. 
I wish to keep his secret as long as possible.” 

After an interval, the soldier evidently returned, accom- 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


9 


panied by another, “ Well, Stegler ” — Pierre knew that the 
general was speaking — “is everything ready?” 

Everything, general.” The voice sounded strangely fa- 
miliar to Pierre. 


Pierre btrained his ears for all the information he could g-et. 


“ Are the concrete emplacements all in good condition, 
ready for the big guns?” 

“ Yes, general.” 

“ Did you name the hostages?” 



10 


BEHIND THE ENEMrS LINES, 


“ Yes, general.” 

“ Good. Now, I want you to remain here for a while. I 
may have to use your knowledge of the country to perfect 
my plans, of attack. Keep away from the windows.” 

” Very well, general.” 

Pierre racked his brains for the solution of the enigma. 
Who was the man who had pretended to be one of them? He 
must have employed some other name, for Pierre did not 
recognize the name ” Stegler.” 

The general spoke again: “What have you done about your 
shop, Stegler?” 

“ Francois, my helper, is in charge.” Suddenly Pierre knew 
it was Voisin, the barber. To think that he should be a spy ! 

“ Go into one of the other rooms and wait there. I shall 
probably need you.” ' 

Pierre heard several men enter the room ; then there was a 
scraping of many chair legs on the floor. He felt certain 
that an important session of some kind was to be held. The 
general, first of all, received reports from members of his 
staff. Then by means of the telephones in outlying stations, 
he learned of all the up-to-the-minute conditions. “ What 
we must do now,” he informed his staff, “ is to get our big 
guns in action against the forts. It is useless to attempt to 
take the fortifications by assault or with lighter artillery. 
The concrete emplacements are ready. Here is the plan, 
showing where they are located. This one here is under the 
barber shop at the end of the village ” — He continued to point 
out where the concrete foundations, necessary for the big 
guns, were built. 

From the description and location, Pierre readily under- 
stood how thoroughly his countrymen had been deceived. 
Seemingly innocent projects of peace times were in reality 
preparations for war. 

“ We’ve got to advance before the enemy has an opportu- 
nity to mobilize completely. Once past these forts, the road 
to the capital ought to be fairly clear. We must get the big 
guns into action as speedily as we can. They are now moving 


BEHIND THE ENEMTS LINES. 


11 


on a specially constructed railroad and ought to be here some- 
time to-morrow morning. In the meantime, see to it that the 
emplacements are bared, ready to receive the guns.” With 
the consideration and disposal of a few less important plans, 
the conference broke up. 

Feeling certain that nothing more of importance would be 
discussed, Pierre once more ascended the staircase and sat on 
the blanket which covered one side of the platform. The size 
of the chimney did not admit of his lying down. Relaxing 
as best he could, he fell asleep. 

A stir and bustle in the inn awoke him next morning. 
Pierre arose stiffly and straightened out the kinks in his body. 
He revolved in his mind the plans which he had heard dis- 
cussed by the enemy’s . staff. They were evidently relying 
upon the big guns to open up a way past the forts, and were 
basing all their hopes of speedy victory upon the success of 
the huge howitzers. If there were only some way in which 
he could prevent them from carrying out their plans ! Sud- 
denly he thought of the foundations which were to support 
the guns. If those concrete constructions were destroyed be- 
fore the arrival of the huge artillery, the monster weapons 
would be useless, for the guns could not be fired without 
the proper base. It would require many days to rebuild the 
foundations and have the concrete hard enough to support 
the tremendous engines of destruction. The delay would be 
vital time lost for the enemy and a valuable respite for his 
hard-pressed countrymen. 

Alive to the possibilities of his idea, he stole to a peephole 
and looked down into the valley. There he beheld minute 
splotches of white along the line and knew that they were the 
constructions that played so important a part in the enemy’s 
plans. The moment had come for action. Pierre went to the 
coil of insulated wire, which communicated with a fort 
many miles away, unwound it, and grasped the wooden bulb 
at the 'end firmly in his right hand. He pressed the button 
six times in quick succession, waited an interval, and then re- 
peated the operation. The blue bulb on the wall lighted up 


12 


BEHIND THE ENEMTS LINES. 


and Pierre knew that those at the fort were awaiting the sig- 
nal to fire. With a long, continued pressure on the button, he 
gave the signal to start firing. There was a wait of several 
minutes ; then a shell shrieked over the intervening miles and 
exploded many rods in front of the nearest concrete emplace- 
ment. 

A short pressure on the button told the gunners to take a 
longer range. The next shell burst beyond the concrete con- 
struction, and Pierre rang the bell twice. With those simple 
signals, Pierre was able to direct the course of the huge mis- 
siles. It was with grim satisfaction that he directed the firing 
of his countrymen toward one of the concrete emplacements. 
Suddenly a shell landed full upon one of tne white splotches 
and blew the foundation to pieces. , 

CHAPTER THREE. 

O NE after another, the gunners, assisted by Pierre, de- 
stroyed the concrete emplacements. When the fifth 
was shattered, there was a tremendous, stamping in the 
inn. “ Some one is giving them information,” bellowed the 
enraged voice of the general. ” That firing is too accurate. 
Some one is behind our lines directing it !” 

” But where can he be?” questioned one of the staff. 

“ That's what we’ve got to find out in a hurry. Search all 
the houses in the village. Scour the woods round about. 
Send cur aviators aloft to try to discover what method they 
are using to signal to the enemy.” 

Pierre trembled at the knowledge of how thoroughly the 
vicinity would be searched, and he turned once more to his 
task. In a comparatively short time, the shells of his coun- 
trymen shattered the sixth foundation. 

,A.n outburst of rage echoed through the room below. The 
general doubled the number of searching parties. 

Pierre’s sole desire now was to destroy the remaining foun- 
dations as rapidly as possible. From his perch in the chim- 
ney he could see practically all the emplacements that 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


13 


stretched along the valley. The field glasses, which formed 
part of his equipment, helped him to locate the foundations 
at a distance. At the hole in die chimney, with the glasses 
in one hand and the wooden bulb in the other, he noted the* 
falls of the different shells and signaled the results to the 
fort. One by one, the supports of the big guns were blown to 
pieces, each successful shot causing a tempest in the inn. 

“ ril find that fellow, if I have to use the whole army,” 
vowed the general. “ Call Stegler.” 

Stegler soon reported at headquarters. “ There’s some one 
around here,” the general snapped, “ who is directing the ene- 
my’s fire. I want to know who it is.” 

“Yes, general.” 

“ Don’t' stand there like a dummy. Do something!’' 

“ But, but, what — ” the spy began falteringly. 

“ To think that you’ve lived here for years and have al- 
lowed them to construct some sort of a signaling apparatus 
under your very nose! Bah! Account for every one of the 
civilian population — man, woman, and child. You have the 
names of every one who has a right to live here, haven’t 
you ?” 

“ Yes, General.” 

“ Well, check them up as far as you can. There is no use 
for you to disguise yourself any longer. Come out into the 
open and round them up. Take as many soldiers as you 
.want to help you !” 

“ Yes, General.” 

“ And keep every one of them under guard until I give you 
word to the contrary.” 

But three emplacements at the other end of the valley re- 
mained. 'Pierre directed the fire of the forts upon them. 
Within an hour, the supports were demolished. 

The work was hardly completed, when an automobile 
stopped at the inn. Some one entered the building. “ The 
guns are a mile back in the woods. General,” a strange voice 
announced. “What shall we do with them?” 

“ Leave them where they are.” 


14 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES, 


“ I beg your pardon,” the astounded courier faltered. 

“ They’re worthless to us now,” growled the general. “ The 
enemy has destroyed every one of our emplacements, and it 
- will take days to replace them. Meanwhile, keep the guns 
outside of the enemy’s fire.” 

The general then boomed orders over the telephones, set- 
ting in action the various hidden batteries. “ We’ll see what 
effect lighter guns will have on the forts,” he commented. 

Pierre immediately scented new work. He tried t ) pene- 
trate the leafy screen of foliage back of the village. The 
speeding missiles gave him an approximate idea of where 
some of the batteries were concealed, and he directed the fire 
of the forts toward them. 

“ The aviators signal that the guns have practically no ef- 
fect on the forts,” declared a new arrival at headquarters. 

“ I feared so,” stated the general gloomily. “ They were 
ready for those guns, but they did not suspect the existence 
of the bigger ones. There is no alternative left for us but 
to intrench. By the time we are ready to use the big weapons, 
the enemy will have completely mobilized and will advance 
against us. Give orders to dig the trenches at once.” 

The invader’s batteries ceased firing, and Pierre, unable to 
locate them properly, signaled to the gunners of the forts to 
stop. Now, for the first time since early morning, he had a 
respite from the terrible strain and sank down upon the 
platform. Then, groping his way carefully down the stair- 
case, he went to the box in the corner and took out one of 
the small containers of food, the first he had eaten that day. 
He painstakingly prepared his meal, making the least possible 
noise. When only partly through eating, he heard* Stegler’s 
voice in the inn. “ They’re all in the square under guard,” 
the spy informed the commanding officer. 

“There’s nobody there who doesn’t belong there?” 

“ No, General.” 

“You didn’t see anything suspicious?” 

“ No, General.” 


BEHIND THE ENEMY'S LINES. 


15 


“ Is there any one whose absence might indicate him to be 
the guilty one?” 

There was a pause. “ No-o,” replied the spy finally. 

“ You’re as blind as a bat,” declared the general impatient- 



They’ve cut the wires,” he murmured dejectedly. 


ly, as he pounded on the table. “ We must find him !” 

Hurried footsteps broke in upon their conversation. “We’ve 
discovered the secret, General,” exclaimed one of the new- 
comers. 



16 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


“ What is it?” 

“ The — th regiment was intrenching according to orders 
a quarter of a mile below the inn. One of the soldiers came 
upon some wires running in the direction of the forts. We 
have every reason to suppose that the wires come from some- 
where in the neighborhood of this inn.” 

The general spoke gravely. ” That’s impossible. There 
are no buildings about the inn except the stable. Both places 
have been thoroughly searched. But we can soon find out. 
Dig up the wires on this side. Put as many men as you pos- 
sibly can at the work.” 

_ Trembling, Pierre placed the food, which he had held in 
his hand, into the container. He staggered from his seat on 
the edge of the box and felt his way again up the winding- 
staircase. Seizing the wooden bulb at the end of the insulated 
wire, he pressed the button six times in succession, waited 
for a short time, and then repeated the process. Again and 
again, he tried to ring the bell at the fort. The glass bulb 
on the wall remained dark. ” They’ve cut the wires,” he mur- 
mured dejectedly. 

He hung up the coil and went from one peephole to an- 
other in an effort to gain information. Suddenly he heard 
the sounds of pickaxes in the vicinity. Hastening to the peep- 
hole that fronted the forts, he saw a line of soldiers emerg- 
ing from the forest. They were digging up the wires! Pierre 
watched them draw nearer and nearer the building. At last 
they reached the place where the wire3 entered it. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

T he guard about the building and stable was doubled, 
each soldier with his gun loaded and ready for use. 
Pierre heard the general detail the squads to search 
various parts of the building. “ Pull down what partitions 
you can. The man is around here somewhere and must be 
found. And” — he had evidently turned to one of his staff — 
“ tell Stegler to bring that rascally old innkeeper here.” 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


17 ' 


“ We can’t follow the wires any farther, without ripping the 
building to pieces, General,” said a newcomer; “they’re im- 
bedded so in the masonry.” 

“Wait awhile, then. We can undoubtedly get at him in 
some other way. Ah, there you are, Stegler. Where’s the 
innkeeper?” 

“ I couldn’t find him, sir.” 

“ Couldn’t find him !” 

An immense load was lifted from Pierre’s heart. The fear 
that his grandfather would be hauled before the military 
tribunal, sentenced, and led out to execution, was lessened 
with the knowledge that he was not yet a prisoner. 

“ I’ll wager it’s the old rascal himself who has done the 
mischief. Who lived in the place with him?” 

“There was Marie, his daughter, who waited on the table.” 

“ Where is she?” 

“ She left a few days ago for a visit to the capital.” 

“ Who else was in the place?” 

“ Henri, the chef.” 

“ Have you got him under guard?” 

“ No, General.” 

“Why not? Couldn’t you find him, either?” 

“ He is one of my assistants.” 

“ Do you mean to say that he worked in this inn day after 
day and never found out the secret? He is surely a fit assist- 
ant for a man like you ; the blind leading the blind !” 

“ Then there was Pierre.” 

“What did he do?” 

“ He was a boy of all work.” 

“ Where is he ?” 

“ I saw him riding out of the village a few hours before 
you came.” 

“ Hum ! Not much light here. Go out and try to catch 
the old innkeeper. Spread a hue and cry about. If you see 
the boy, bring him in.” 

One squad after another returned to the large lower room 
and reported failure to the general. 


18 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


“ I tell you,” shouted the commander, “ he must be some- 
where around here.” 

“ Well, there’s the chimney. Perhaps he’s in there.” 

“What do you think he is?” ejaculated the general, “ A sala- 
mander? There’s been a fire in that fireplace all day. No 
human being could live in that heat for one hour, much less 
twenty-four.” 

“ I looked over the chimney. General,” volunteered one of 
those present, “ both in the cellar and outside, and I couldn’t 
find any cracks or openings that would indicate an entrance.” 

“ We can’t spend any more time on this problem,” decided 
the general emphatically. “We’ll move headquarters and blow 
this inn to atoms. That will settle everything.” 

The slignt hope that had sprung up in Pierre vanished ut- 
terly. The general’s course of action would indeed settle ev- 
erything. 

“Clear our things out,” the general ordered those about him, 
“and one of you take charge of blowing up the place.” 

The confusion gradually diminisheJ as the rooms below 
were emptied of their furnishings. Pierre gazed out of the 
peepholes in the chimney and saw that a multitude of guards 
encircled the two buildings. He descended the staircase and 
approached the massive door that led into the fireplace. Re- 
leasing the locking bar, he swung the door partly open by 
means of a rod that had been placed in the hidden chamber 
for that purpose. A blast of heat smote him full in the face, 
and made him stagger back. In a short time, however, he 
grew accustomed to the flames and once more drew near the 
opening. Bending down, he looked over the blazing logs into 
the room. A pile of papers lay heaped together near the fire. 
He thrust his rod through the flames and pulled over several 
of the papers. They instantly flared up. Then pushing them 
back, he ignited a heap of waste and shut the secret door back 
of the fireplace. With thumping heart, he awaited the result 
of his desperate act. 

For a minute or two, he heard nothing. Then there was a 
rush of feet. “Who .set that fire?” cried one in authority. 


BEHIND THE ENEMTS LINES. 


19 


“ The place was to be blown up, not burned.” The noise of 
stamping and beating told Pierre of the frantic attempts the 
soldiers were making to put out the flames, and then came 



He thrust his rod through the flames and pulled over several 
of the. papers. 

the voice of the staff officer, gasping out the command: 
“ Get out, men ; it’s too late.” 

Pierre mounted the staircase again. Fortunately, a rather 


20 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


strong wind blew the smoke and flames away from the chinv 
ney, so that there was no danger of his suffocating. Beyond 
a great increase in temperature, due to the heating of the 
thick stone partition that separated the chimney from the 
house proper, the imprisoned boy did not suffer in any way, 
thanks to the vacuum walls. 

The invading soldiers completely encircled the house and 
the barn, momentarily expecting that the spy would be forced 
from his hiding place. Soon the entire inn was wrapped in 
flames, which the wind, increasing in strength, blew away 
from the chimney. The heat, however, finally forced Pierre 
to descend to the bottom of the hidden chamber. ^ There, 
clinging to the furthermost wall with a moistened blanket 
about him, he awaited the entire destruction of the inn. 

When he finally dared to leave his post, it was night. The 
flames had died away and the spectators, baffled at the nonap- 
pearance of the enemy, had left the vicinity, convinced that 
their reasoning was wrong or that the spy had perished in 
the flames. From the peepholes, he could see, in the bright 
moonlight, that little remained of the inn. Rescued from 
death almost by a miracle, he knelt on the platform and 
voiced his thanks to the God who Had watched over him. 
Then he leaned against the rough stone and fell asleep. 

The sun was high in the heavens when Pierre awoke next 
day. He descended to the bottom of the chimney and ate 
some food. Then he sat down upon the chest to plan his 
next step. The enemy were all about the chimney and the 
chances that he would successfully elude them, were decidedly 
against him. Fortunately, there were provisions and water 
enough in the hidden chamber to last him two weeks. He 
could stay in the chimney with comparative safety that length 
of time, unless a shell from one of his countrymen’s guns 
shattered the structure. But after that, hunger and thirst 
would force him out df his hiding place to run great risks. 
He decided it would be far better to make the attempt when 
he could take part of the provisions with him. He determined. 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


21 


therefore, to wait until the ruins had thoroughly cooled and 
the attention of the invaders was diverted from the place. 
Then, he would choose a dark night. 

During the day, he made a haversack in which^ to carry 
water and food. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

T he next two days were bright and sunshiny, with moon- 
lit nights. The third day was dark and lowering, and 
gave promise of just the kind-of night for which Pierre 
was waiting. In accordance with his hopes, the night was pitch 
dark. Having completed his preparations, Pierre swung 
the door open a little and gazed outside. Fortunately, none 
of the fallen walls would prevent him from leaving the chim- 
ney. He could see nothing except a faint glimmer from the 
darkened lights of automobile transports which passed along 
the road. Drawing a deep breath to fortify him, he opened 
the door wide, then closed it to prevent his secret from be- 
coming known to the enemy. Perhaps he might need the 
shelter of the chimney again before he could join his coun- 
trymen. A line of trucks came by, but he crouched behind the 
fragment of a wall until they had passed. Then he stumbled 
across the road, and reaching the woods that flanked it, he 
threw himself flat on the ground to avoid being seen by the 
occupants of a high-powered car that whizzed past. 

It was Pierre’s intention to cover, during the night, as much 
as possible of the two miles that lay between him and the 
Circle which his grandfather had mentioned in the inn. He 
went at right-angles to the road, which he located by the pass- 
ing lights, until it finally disappeared behind the massed foli- 
age. • Then, fearful of losing his bearings and wandering in- 
to the hands of the enemy, he realized that it was a hopeless 
proposition to go farther. He had to wait for daybreak. He 
wormed his way into the center of a clump of bushes and 
lay down to rest. The damp chill of the night prevented him 
from sleeping, and he was forced to stand erect and thrash 
his arms about to keep warm. 


22 


BEHIND THE ENEMAS LINES. 


As soon as he could make out his surroundings, he started 
again on his way to the Circle. He stole from tree to tree, 
from one clump of bushes to another, alert for signs of the 
enemy. He knew that the woods stretched back of the road 
fully fifteen miles. For the most part, it consisted of huge 
trees, surrounded by a tangle of undergrowth. Stealthily 
working along through this growth, he finally reached his 
goal about the middle of the morning. Huge oaks and pines 
stood in a circle about an enclosure approximately one hun- 
dred feet in diameter. By some freak of nature, not a tree 
had grown within the Circle, with the exception of a solitary 
pine in the center, which towered even higher than the giants 
surrounding it. 

Pierre was about to enter the open space, when he drew 
back. “I wonder,” he murmured to himself, “if there is any 
one here, watching. That officer might have told the general 
of, what grandfather said before he left the inn — that he 
would have to go to the Circle. Every one in the village 
knows this place by that name, even Voisin — or Stegler, as 
they called him. The enemy may be trying to trap grand- 
father here.” The thought redoubled his caution. Concealed 
by dense undergrowth about twin oaks, Pierre determined to 
remain where he was, until he had an opportunity to recon- 
noiter without fear of discovery. He took some food from 
the haversack and ate it, after which he drank from the can 
of water. Emboldened by the continued silence, he was going 
to step forward, when a strange sight caused him to pause. 
Perhaps seventy-five feet away, a bird was about to alight on 
a branch not far from the ground, when it checked its flight 
and flew away with cries of fear. “ That’s peculiar,” mut- 
tered Pieire. “There’s something over there that frightened 
the bird.” 

He riveted his gaze to the spot, but he could not see any- 
thing out of the ordinary. “ Well,” he finally decided, as he 
stooped once more behind his leafy screen, “ Pm not going 
to take any chances.” Hour after hour passed and the situa- 
tion remained unchanged. But as dusk came on, Pierre 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES 


23 


heard a rustling that was not caused by the wind. It grew 
louder and was accompanied by the cautious treading of feet. 



Scooping it up rapidly he came to a piece of paper. 


“ He won’t come now,” said some one near by, in a low 
tone. 

” He has probably been here and gone,” said another, whose 
voice Pierre recognized as Stegler’s. “ There isn’t much use 


24 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


watching any longer. He probably knows by this time that 
the inn has been burned to the ground and on that account, 
won’t hang around this place any more.” The sound began 
to die away. The men evidently had taken another direction 
and were going away from him. In order not to waste any 
more of the waning light, Pierre stole through the bushes 
out into the enclosure. 

He felt certain that his grandfather would leave some mes- 
sage, if he could not be present. The question was, where 
had he hidden the note? A solitary pine that stood in the 
center of the Circle attracted his attention. Pierre felt con- 
vinced that his grandfather would secrete his communication 
here. Dropping on his hands and knees, he began to search 
carefully around the base of the tree. On the west side, he 
discerned traces of recently disturbed soil. Scooping it up 
rapidly he came to a piece of paper. He smoothed out the 
wrinkled folds and turned it to the light. Seemingly it bore 
his grandfather’s handwriting. “I shall be in the gully .near 
the blasted oak,” the note ran, “ for the next week. Come, if 
you can. When it is daylight, I shall see you.” 

It was now quite dark. Pierre resolved to camp near the 
Circle until morning, and make for the gully at daybreak. 
He gathered together a number of boughs that lay on the 
ground and stripped the evergreen trees round about of oth- 
ers. These he used as a bed and covering. Utterly ex- 
hausted, he fell asleep. 

Early the following morning, he started toward the gully. 
Exercising every possible precaution he forced his way 
through the forest growth. At last he reached the place des- 
ignated by his grandfather. The gully was directly ahead and 
along it, a trifle to the left, was the blasted oak. Making a 
hasty survey of his surroundings, Pierre pressed eagerly on 
toward the landmark. On reaching it, he stopped and waited 
impatiently. The morning was now well advanced and Pierre 
expected a quick response to his visit. As no one appeared, 
he “ cawed ” three times, and immediately a figure stepped 
out from behind neighboring bushes. It was Stegler, the spy ! 


. BEHIND -THE ENEMY^S LINES. 


25 


Pierre knew then that he had walked into a trap ; that the 
note at the base of the pine was either a forgery, placed 
there by Stegler, or had really been written by his grand- 
father, found and left there to ensnare any one who might 
come along. 

“ Why,” exclaimed Stegler in mock surprise, ” it’s Pierre ! 
Where have you been and what are you doing here?” 

CHAPTER SIX. 

P IERRE was at first tempted to run. He instinctively 
felt, however, that the trap was well guarded by the 
soldiers of the enemy. So he veiled his feelings, and 
turned to Stegler with a feigned look of pleasurable surprise. 
‘‘ Oh, Voisin,” he exclaimed, calling the spy by the name with 
which the village folk had addressed him, ” I thought it was 
one of the enemy’s soldiers.” He managed to inject such a 
relieved expression into his words that Stegler paused, a look 
of mystification spreading over his face. 

‘‘What’s the trouble?” questioned the spy. 

‘‘ I was looking for grandfather here. There’s something 
big afoot.” Pierre knew it would be useless to pretend to be 
entirely innocent. His presence and actions at the blasted 
oak showed clearly that he had discovered the note concealed 
at the base of the solitary pine in the Circle, and that he, or 
some one else who had communicated the information to him, 
was present at the inn, when his grandfather had remarked 
about the Circle. The only way to ward off capture for the 
time being, he concluded, was to hint at greater prey than 
himself. By suggesting a general conspiracy against the in- 
vading army, he would impel Stegler to delay his arrest un- 
til the spy could learn all the details of the new plot. 

“Is that so?” questioned Stegler in frank astonishment. 
“Are you sure no one can hear us?” questioned Pierre. 
“Who could hear us way out here?” parried the spy. 
“They sent me to get grandfather and try to persuade him 
to take part,” Pierre hinted at his information. 


26 


BEHIND THE ENEMrS LINES. 


“In what?” asked the othei eagerly. 

“ I’m not allowed to say. But ” — Pierre stopped, as though 
a new possibility had flashed through his mind — “ why can’t 
you join us?” 

“To do what?” 

“ To collect and give information to our countrymen.” 

“Ah!” A gleam of satisfaction stole into Stegler’s 
Pierre knew what was going on in his mind — a grasping ai 
the possibility of acquiring new honors at the expense of his 
neighbors. “Is your grandfather here?” he questioned. 

“ He said he would be here for a week.” 

“When did he tell you that?” 

Pierre saw the trap in a minute. If he deviated from tne 
truth one iota, the spy would brand the whole story as a false- 
hood. “ He didn’t tell me.” 

“How did you know, then?” 

“ By a note which he left in a secret hiding place. Have 
you been around here very long?” 

“ Not very long.” 

“And you haven’t seen grandfather anywhere?” 

“ No. I wish I had.” 

“ I wonder where he is,” remarked Pierre. “ Perhaps we 
had better look foi him.” He started off, but Stegler stopped 
him. “ It’s too dangerous to go walking around like that,” 
he cautioned. “ The soldiers are looking for you.” 

“ For me !” Pierre assumed a most astonished air. 

“Why have you been away?” 

“ I went away before the enemy came,” Pierre said in a 
tone which implied that he had just returned. 

“Then who is getting up this conspiracy?” queried Stegler, 
with sudden suspicion. 

Pierre mentioned the names of several whom he knew were 
in the forts. 

“Are they around here? I thought they had reported at 
the fortifications. That clears up much.” And the spy nod- 
ded his head decisively. Pierre knew now that he had con- 
vinced him of the fact that an important conspiracy was 


BEHIND THE ENEMrS LINES 


27 


being hatched, unknown to the invaders. “I believe I w.ll 
join,” declared Stegler, as though he gave his assent after 
weighing everything carefully. “Where are the meetings 
held?” 

“I’ll go with you myself to the place, just as soon as I can 
find grandfather,” 



He leaped forward and gave Stegler a violent push 


28 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


“ V'oLi’d better come back again. It wouldn’t do to stay 
around this place too long. If your grandfather was here 
now, he would come out of his hiding place.” 

“ All right,” agreed Pierre with seeming reluctance. ” It’s 
funny, though, where he is.” 

The two started off toward the village. Pierre, with elab- 
orate pretense, observed all his previous precautions, dodging 
here and there and working his way carefully along. Stegler 
played his part with all the seriousness of an actual con- 
spirator. After progressing for some time in this fashion, 
they came to a steep bank. Reaching the top, Pierre was a 
little behind Stegler. He leaped forward and gave Stegler a 
violent push. Stegler lost his balance and rolled down the 
bank, shouting wildly. 

Pierre darted through the woods. He knew that it would 
not be long before he was recaptured, unless he quickly se- 
cured a safe retreat. The spy would speedily set all the re- 
serves back of the trenches at work scouring the forest and 
searching the houses. He was rapidly approaching one end 
of the village.' Fortunately, he had not encountered any of 
the enemy. 

Back of the main road, not far from the fringe of forest 
at which he had halted, was a small house of two stories with 
a little attic. Pierre recognized it as one in which Stegler 
lived. 

The woods in which Pierre had taken refuge were seldom 
frequented by members of the hostile army. Were it not for 
Stegler, Pierre might have remained \.here he was with a 
fair degree of security. But he knew that the aroused spy 
would do his utmost to capture him. Crouched behind a mas- 
sive tree, and expecting eve^'y moment to hear the alarm, he 
peered here and there for a refuge from those hunting him. 

Suddenly he straightened up as a daring plan suggested it- 
self. Why not take refuge in the spy’s house? That surely 
would be the last place where they would think of looking 
for him ! Ringing blows of an ax broke in upon his thoughts. 
Pierre went cautiously in the direction of the sounds. He 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


29 


saw Jacques, the woodchopper, felling a tree. “Hist!” called 
Pierre from the sheltering bushes. The woodchopper stopped 
his work and looked around. “ Hist !” Pierre parted the 
bushes and motioned with his hand. 

Jacques dropped his ax and strode toward him. “ Be care- 
ful,” Jacques said; “they are searching for you.” 

“ I know they are, so I want you to help me.” In a few 
words, Pierre acquainted him with the facts. 

“What do you want me to do?” asked Jacques. 

“Have you your horse and cart here?” 

“ Yes. They’re back ja ways.” 

“ Bring them here. Let me get into the cart. Cover me 
with boughs and drive past Stegler’s house. When you get 
there, stop as though you had lost something. That will 
give me a chance to crawl out and enter the house.” 

“ A good idea 1” The woodchopper’s eyes glowed appre- 
ciatively. Then a cloud of doubt covered his face. “ Sup- 
pose it isn’t open?” 

“ There’s a window open, anyway. I can see it from here. 
Drive close past it. The load will hide me while I climb 
through.” 

Following the plan outlined, Jacques drove to Stegler’s 
house and drew' up close to the open window. Pierre, using 
the side of the cart as a perch, launched himself through the 
open window. Jacques, who had been pretending to examine 
the fetlock joint of one of the forelegs of the old horse, 
straightened up carelessly and clucked to the mare, who 
forged slowly ahead with the load. 

The instant he was through the window, Pierre dodged 
out of sight behind one of the curtains. Then he listened 
for signs of life in the house. He knew that Stegler had 
lived alone with Francois, his helper, a man who was evi- 
dently one of the spy’s assistants. Now, however, Pierre was 
not certain but what there were guests in the building. Hear- 
ing nothing, he tiptoed to the staircase that led to the upper 
story and mounted the steps. When he reached the top step. 


30 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


he looked into the two rooms that led oflf the small hallway. 
Both were empty. The house was certainly deserted. 

The building was small and afforded but few nooks in which 
he could hope to conceal himself. Looking up, Pierre spied 
the trapdoor that led to the attic. “The very place,” he ejacu- 
lated. 

In a short time, he had secured a chair and was standing 
on it, thrusting up the trapdoor. The aperture open, he start- 
ed to hoist himself up when he paused. To leave the chair 
where it was would announce his presence to the occupants 
of the house. He descended once more to the lower story, 
where he secured a piece of board strong enough to bear his 
weight, and a length of stout rope. He ascended the stair- 
case again, mounted the chair, and placed the board cross- 
wise of the opening. Then he tied an end of the rope to the 
center of the board and, letting .he rope fall free, he got 
down from the chair and returned it to its original position. 
In a few moments, he had pulled himself up by means of the 
rope, to the framework of the trapdoor, and had hoisted him- 
self through the opening into the attic. It required but a 
short time to haul up the rope, remove the board from its 
position, and lower the trapdoor in place. 

Once more Pierre’s patience was tested by a seemingly in- 
terminable wait. From where he lay stretched over cross- 
beams, he could hear the booming of big howitzers, the crack- 
crack-crack of petulant rifle fire, and the automatic discharge 
of the machine guns. He knew that a big battle must be un- 
der way out near the trenches. Finally he heard the door 
below open and shut. The sound of muffled voices within 
the house came to his ears. Raising the trapdoor a trifle, 
he listened. ‘ 


BEHIND THE ENEMAS LINES. 31 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

T he general is as sore as a wet hen,” said Stegler. “ He 
gave me a grand dressing down, and then assigned me 
to a company as an ordinary private.” 

“What!” It was Francois’ voice. 

“ He made me report to the quartermaster for an outfit. It’s 
in this bundle. To-morrow I become a mere private. And all 
on account of allowing that young rascal to slip through my 
hands.” 

“Haven’t you found any trace of him?” 

“ Not a sign.” 

“ Did you find out where he came from?” 

“ Yes. And it was as cleverly arranged a place as you 
could wish, a heat-proof, hidden chamber in the chimney of 
the inn. We’re watching that now. If he attempts to slip 
back there again, we’re bound to catch him.” 

Pierre shuddered at his narrow escape. It had been his 
original intention to retreat to the chimney and, using that as 
a base of operations, make for the lines of his countrymen. 

The firing, by this time, had died away to an occasional 
boom from one of the big guns. On the main road, Pierre 
heard constantly increasing activity. He knew that darkness 
had stolen over the country; that the enemy were rushing 
fresh men and supplies to the front trenches. 

“ I’m going to turn in,” Stegler called. 

“ I’ve got to go on special duty,” said Francois, “ and prob- 
ably won’t be back to-night. Maybe I’ll see you in the morn- 
ing before you go,” and he went out of the house, leaving 
Stegler getting a meal downstairs. 

The meal over, Stegler ascended the staircase and entered 
one of the rooms off the hallway. Pierre heard the drop- 
ping of heavy shoes. Then absolute silence stole over the 
house. 

Confronted with the necessity of devising a means of es- 
cape before he was starved out, Pierre weighed every possi- 
bility. He must start for the front as speedily as possible. 


32 


BEHIND THE ENEMY^S LINES. 


He thought of the uniform which Stegler had brought home 
with him. Why not dress himself in the garb of the enemy 
and, trailing along with the thousands of soldiers who were 
marching in the darkness toward the front, seek in some way 
to reach the other side? 

For another hour, he waited in his hiding place to allow 
Stegler ample time to fall sound asleep. At last, the heavy 
breathing of the spy told him that the time for action had 
come. He opened the trapdoor cautiously, until it rested 
back against one of the crossbeams. Then he groped for 
the board that lay on a joist near by and, on finding it, paid 
out the rope carefully to the floor of the hallway. After he 
had laid the board in the proper position, he lowered him- 
self through the opening and descended by means of the 
rope to the floor. He stole into the empty room, brought 
back a chair, and put it under the square hole. Mounting this 
he removed the board and closed the trapdoor. He returned 
the chair to the room from which he had taken it, wound up 
the rope, and, with the two objects tucked under his arm, de- 
scended the staircase. 

Reaching the lower story, Pierre felt his way into the liv- 
ing room. Everything was so dark that a light was absolute- 
ly necessary. He drew the heavy shades t.. the windows and 
closed the door. Then he lit the lamp on the shelf above the 
fireplace. Turning down the wick so that there was only a 
faint glow, he placed the lamp on a chair around which he 
hung his coat. No one outside would notice the light, which 
sufficed, however, for his needs. 

On a couch beside the window, Pierre spied the entire out- 
fit that was to mark Stegler’s entrance into the ranks as a 
private. He removed his outer garments and slipped into the 
uniform. Fortunately, he was of approximately the same 
height and build as the spy, so that the clothing proved to be 
a good fit. Shoes and leggings followed, plus all the other 
equipment, including a shrapnel helmet. Due to his inspection 
of a countless number of marching troops, Pierre knew on 
just what part of his person each article belonged. He bun- 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


33 


(Hed his old clothes together and thrust them under the 
couch. Then he extinguished the lamp and placed it back on 
the shelf. Going to the front door, he opened it a crack. Off 
on the main road, he could dimly make out the passing 
vehicles and soldiers. He wanted an opportunity to join, 
unseen, a large body of them. 

His chance came a short time later. A long train of what 
appeared to him to be motor ambulances forced a detach- 
ment of infantry off the road. The soldiers scattered to both 
sides and, with no apparent formation, marched ahead toward 
the trenches. Pierre slipped out of the house and joined them, 
unsuspected. It was not difficult to remain undetected, for 
each one had all he could do to keep out of the. way of the 
interminable line of motor trucks, automobiles, artillery 
horses drawing guns and caissons, and speeding cars on spe- 
cial missions. 

After a time, the soldiers left the road to enter the commu- 
nication trenches that led to the ditches paralleling the 
trenches of the enemy. There was just room enough for the 
men entering to walk in single file, in order to give those re- 
tiring to rest camps a chance to get out. Stolidly Pierre fol- 
lowed the bulky form of the soldier ahead of him, farther and 
farther to the front. He realized that there was practically 
no opportunity to escape, until he reached the foremost trench. 

At last the company to which Pierre had attached himself 
arrived at its destination. The officers had enjoined absolute 
silence upon the men, and this helped Pierre to keep his iden- 
tity a secret. The fact that it was so dark that a soldier 
could not make out the features of his neighbor also pro- 
tected the intruder from discovery, the disguise being further 
perfected by the spreading shrapnel helmet. Pierre tried to 
see, through an aperture in a heap of sand bags, signs of life 
in the trenches of his countrymen. The soldiers on both 
sides of him had disappeared into a “ funk hole,” which 
those who had been there before the present tenants had 
dug for greater protection. Pierre stood practically alone. He 
remained motionless at his post in a sentrylike attitude, until 


»•# 







BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


35 


every man in the trench had settled down to the monotony 
of watching. After a long wait, Pierre laid his rifle against 
the wall of the trench, slipped off the more cumbersome parts 
of his equipment, and pulled himself out of the trench. 

“ What are you going to do?” exclaimed a startled sentry in 
a hoarse whisper. 

“ Ssh !” admonished Pierre sharply. 

chapter eight. 

T he sentry questioned him again, but Pierre paid no at- 
tention to him. He began to crawl under the wire en- 
tanglements. With his goal but a hundred yards distant, 
he was determined that nothing but a bullet would stop him. 
Soldiers often went out into No Man’s Land during the night 
to rescue a wounded comrade, reconnoiter, or repair the 
barbed wire ; so the disturbed sentinel was evidently at a loss 
to know what to do. Pierre took advantage of his confusion 
to squirm ahead over the sod which was pitted and hollowed 
by rifle and shell fire ; and soon he was lost in the darkness. 

Suddenly, as he twisted ahead, a brilliant light illumined 
the vicinity. It was one of the magnesium flares which the 
invaders had invented to prevent a surprise on a dark night. 
Pierre lay motionless upon the ground. As soon as the light 
went out, he scrambled madly ahead. He had not gone far 
when a second flare lighted up No Man’s Land. He could 
see, directly in front of him, a yawning hole which a monster 
shell had blown in the earth. Again he simulated one of the 
prostrate forms that lay scattered about. He heard the 
cracking of rifles and realized that they were shooting in his 
direction, for in the ghastly white light he could see bullets 
kicking up dirt. All at once his right leg became limp. They 
had struck him ! And then darkness settled once more. 

But the shooting increased, for the soldiers on the other 
side began to answer. Pierre dragged himself forward and 
rolled down into the shell hole, just as the third flare came. 
The din increased in intensity. 


36 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


Safe, for the time being, Pierre eased his wounded leg to 
as comfortable a position as possible, and waited for the tu- 
mult to cease. “ Stegler must have guessed who took his uni- 
form,” he reasoned when some semblance of quiet had been 
restored; “else why should they have started to fire at me? 
He must have gone to headquarters and told the general, who 
telephoned to all the outlying trenches. It would be an easy 
matter to spot me.” 

A faint sound near at hand broke in upon his thoughts. 

There was some one else in the shell hole ! Pierre was in- 

stantly alert. “ Whoever he is,” murmured Pierre with Qom- 
passion, “ he’s wounded.” 

“ Katharine !” The word was spoken in the guttural voice 
of the enemy. Pierre had no feeling of hostility, when he 
.realized that the man was one of the invaders. He momen- 
tarily forgot his own wound. “ Poor fellow,” he muttered ; 

“ he’s out of his head.” 

“Water! Water!” Without hesitating a moment longer, 
Pierre hitched himself in the direction whence the sound 
came. His wounded leg, jarred by the irregular jerking, tor- 
mented him cruelly. Presently his outstretched hand touched 
a recumbent form. He slipped his arm behind the shoulders 
of the man and placed his open canteen to his lips. The suf- 
ferer drank eagerly and Pierre laid him back again on the 
ground. 

The rest of that night, Pierre listened to the mutterings of 
his comrade. When daylight came, the incoherent mutterings 
had died away. Pierre leaned over and felt of the man’s heart. 
It was still beating. Evidently most of the fever had left him. 
He watched him intently until the first rays of the sun shone 
down on the scarred country. His companion sat up with a 
dazed expression on his face. “ Where am I ?” he asked. 

Pierre answered him in the stranger’s own tongue, explain- 
ing, as best he could, the predicament they were both in. 

“ And is it still night?” 

“What?” Pierre said in astonishment. 


BEHIND THE ENEMrS LINES. 37 

“ It is night,” sighed the wounded invader, ‘‘ for I cannot 
see a thing.” 

With infinite tact, Pierre broke the sad news to the man. 

“Blind?” The stricken soldier rubbed his sightless eyes in 
despair. “ Blind !” 

After bandaging the wounds of his enemy as best he could 
and sharing his emergency rations and water, Pierre eased his 
own aching leg by bathing and tying it up. He had to wait 
now for a chance to crawl the rest of the way to the lines of 
his countrymen. 

There was comparatively little action that day. Pierre at- 
tended to his companion as best he could, giving him food 
and water until his supply was completely exhausted. They 
did not dare to talk above a whisper, for fear of inviting 
shells from the artillery in the rear of the two lines or mis- 
siles from the trench mortars. Nevertheless, Pierre man- 
aged to reassure his blind fellow prisoner with whispered 
words of cheer. 

“ You are kind,” said the stranger gratefully, “though yout 
voice shows that you belong to the other side.” 

With the advent of night, Pierre planned to complete his 
journey to the friendly lines. 'Two things bothered him, how- 
ever. One was the difficulty of acquainting his countrymen 
before it was too late that he was really a friend; the other 
was the thought of leaving his blind companion. The vigil of 
the day had brought the two, enemies though they were, close 
together. Pierre simply could not abandon his companion. 
He clawed and hitched his way to the top of the shell hole 
and gazed in the direction of the trenches which his country- 
men held. Then he riveted his eyes on the scarcely percepti- 
ble movement of two bodies but a short distance away. They 
were either spies returning to the enemy’s lines or his own 
people out reconnoitering. Foot by foot, they advanced to- 
ward the shell hole. Pierre remained where he was, unde- 
cided whether or not to retreat. He finally resolved to hold 
his ground and await their coming. When they were but a 


38 BEHIND THE ENEMrs LINES. 

few feet away, Pierre spoke in his native tongue: “I am a 
friend.” 

“Why are you here?” came the question in the same lan- 
guage. 

“ I seek shelter within your lines.” The man nearest him 



Foot by foot, they advanced toward the shell hole. 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


39 


drew a revolver. “ Do not move while I advance, or I shall 
fire.” Pierre remained rigid, as the two traversed the short 
intervening stretch. 

“You wear the uniform of the enemy,” said the spokesman 
of the two, with a menacing question in his subdued voice. 

With as few words as possible, Pierre explained. 

“What you say may be true, but how can we tell?” 

“ I am unarmed. I am wounded. Would such a person go 
spying about?” 

“What do you think, Antoine?” the"' first man asked his com- 
panion. 

“ The fellow’s tale is plausible. He can do no harm, if he 
comes with us. Should he prove to be other than he repre- 
sents himself to be, we shall soon find out and hold him a 
prisoner.” 

“ Come, then.” 

“ There is another down in the shell hole,” announced 
Pierre. “ He is one of the enemy, but he is blind and wound- 
ed. Couldn’t we take him with us?” 

“A trick!” exclaimed one of the scouts turning to the other. 

“You can bind me hand and foot,” offered Pierre, “and 
one of you can stand guard over me, while the other goes be- 
low to investigate.” 

“ I believe the boy,” asserted the more silent one of the 
two. “ I will go down into the hole myself.” He returned 
shortly. “What the boy says is true,” he informed his com- 
panion. “ Come, help me carry the poor fellow up.” 

They performed the task so quietly that Pierre, close as he 
was, could scarcely hear them. When they reached the top, 
they paused. “You two carry him,” urged Pierre. “I will 
try to crawl after you. Let them know that I am coming.” 

“You’re a brave and generous boy,” commended one of his 
unknown countrymen. “ Have no fear. We shall be on the 
watch for you.” The two started back toward their lines, . 
bearing the wounded enemy. Pierre followed. With each 
foot that he advanced, the torture became greater. Gritting 


40 


BEHIND THE ENEMY’S LINES. 


his teeth, he forced himself ahead, until finally the effort be- 
came too great, and he fell upon the ground, unconscious. 


When Pierre came to, he was lying on a little white cot in 
a large room. By his bedside sat an old man. “Grandfa- 
ther,” murmured Pierre, faintly and unbelievingly. 

The aged visitor patted the white hand of the patient. 
“ Hush,” he said softly, “ let me do the talking. Those fel- 
lows went back after you and brought you in. Your leg’s 
going to be all right in time. The general got wind of what 
you’d done and saw to it personally that you had the best of 
care.” 

“But how did you get here?” Pierre asked. 

The old man smiled as he recalled how he had outwitted the 
enemy. “ Easiest thing in the world. Just as soon as I was 
sure that they had discovered our secret, I left a note at the 
foot of the pine in the Circle, telling you that I was going to 
make for the other side. Then I simply went around the end 
of their lines. Knowing the short cuts as well as I do, it 
wasn’t hard. And I’ve been hanging around here ever since, 
trying to get word of you.” 

The wounded boy realized now that Stegler had actually 
discovered the note and, imitating the handwriting on it, left 
a forged one in the same hiding place. 

“ See what we have here,” continued his grandfather 
jocosely, as he fumbled with the clasp of a military medal 
that lay pinned to Pierre’s coverlet. “ The general placed 
it there himself.” 

“ Where is the blind man who — ” began Pierre, but his 
grandfather cut him short. “ The general is going to send 
him home to his family as a special favor to you.” 

“ God bless the general,” whispered Pierre, tears welling 
into his eyes. 

The old man took Pierre’s hand. “ And God bless the boy 
who saved his country,” he added in a choked voice. 


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